


Seekerlets

by Insecuriosity



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Adoption, Character Death, Force-Feeding, Gen, Kidnapping, Seekers, Surrogate mother, Transformer Sparklings, animal!seekers, non-sentient seekers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-02 07:31:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5239871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insecuriosity/pseuds/Insecuriosity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While moving to a new city, Wildbarrel's traveling group is attacked by wild seekers. When his altmode fails, and a seeker sees him, he thinks his life will soon be over. </p><p>Instead, he finds himself adopted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the Adoption

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this long ago, because TFP Starscream's design really made wild, animalistic seekers a possibility for me.   
> I used no canon characters for this, because I kinda had no idea which one to use. So. *shrug*
> 
> Thanks to Charivari for being 100% support and awesome, and for helping me scrape together the motivation to edit and post this.

Wildbarrel revved his engine and roared past his creator, spitting up dust and scrap against the side of his creator as he did so. 

“Wildbarrel! Stay with me, how many times do I have to tell you?!” Rivet Nail growled at him. Wildbarrel rolled his optics and let his engines roar over the sound of his overbearing creator before pressing his brakes and letting himself roll back into position. 

“Don't mess around with the other travellers! I could lose sight of you, and you don't have headlights installed on your vehicle form.” Rivet Nail scolded him gruffly. 

“It's not dark yet!” Wildbarrel replied. “And I wouldn't get lost- there aren't any streets out here anyway. Just desert.”  
As if to prove a point, he swerved in the mettalic sand, and sprayed one of the travellers beside him with the fine grains. The mech cursed colourfully. 

“Wildbarrel! Stop swerving around, keep your steering wheel straight and stay next to me!” Rivet Nail said angrily. “You can drive around recklessly all you like when we get to New Iacon.” 

Wildbarrel huffed, but he did as Rivet Nail asked of him. He wouldn't have to drive in a boring straight line for much longer- they were almost to the new city! Almost to their new home! Wildbarrel drove around a rock and nearly collided with the traveler on his left, who cussed and revved his engines threateningly. Wildbarrel hurriedly drove to the other side of his creator for protection.

Their new home was going to be great. Rivet Nail had shown him plenty of image captures of the city. It was an all-new settlement, and Rivet Nail had said that there would be countless opportunities to be found there. Most prominently jobs, and if there were jobs, there would be credits, and with enough credits Wildbarrel could finally get an upgrade! 

Rivet Nail had barely been able to afford a mini-frame to house Wildbarrel's spark. Wildbarrel's other creator had left- Rivet nail didn't like to talk about that – and he had cared for Wildbarrel from the beginning.   
With a new job, Rivet Nail was going to earn more credits than ever before, and the cycles of being on scrap-shovelling duty or playing messenger bot were going to be over!

As soon as Wildbarrel got an upgrade, he would find a job just like Rivet Nail, and bring in more money so his creator could finally get an upgrade too. He knew how much Rivet Nail wanted a new drill-head. The old one had gone a bit screwy, and it tended to drill to the left instead of right ahead. Maybe, if Wildbarrel managed to get a REALLY good job, he'd be able to get one that was lined with that one metal, the really expensive one-....

Something hummed in the air, and Wildbarrel was shaken out of his daydream. There was an odd buzzing that seemed to be getting louder, the longer he listened. He had never heard it before. He tilted his audial sensors in an attempt to identify the sound. 

“Rivet Nail? What is that strange rushing sound?...” He asked. 

The rest of the travellers had quieted down as well, all listening , and suddenly his creator seized up, engine revving with panic-   
“Wildbarrel, there-!” 

“SEEKERS!” A femme screeched. Before Wildbarrel could form a single thought, the orderly unit of travellers turned into a whirling vortex of chaos. Screeching car tires sprayed up the sand around them, and the scent of overtaxed engines and burnt rubber was thick in the air.

“GO! GO!” Rivet Nail was screaming from somewhere nearby, but Wildbarrel was already going as hard as he could. He couldn't see a single thing through the dust around him, and his axles squealed as his tires encountered uneven rocks in the sand. 

Someone slammed into him from behind and Wildbarrel spun out of control. His wheels struggled to get a grip in loose grit, and another car slammed into him. Dust and rocks spat in every direction and he screamed for his creator.“R-RIVET NAIL!”  
It was all he could do to stay on his four wheels. His side was burning in pain, but he couldn't stop. “RIVET NAIL!” He yelled out again. 

The faint hum of the seeker engines had turned into a deafening roar, and they dove right over the group, so low that Windbarrel could see the scratches in their armour. 

Wildbarrel's spark was running wild, and his engines were whining in fear and effort as he tried to keep his spot in the frantically fleeing herd of bots. The seekers were coming in for a second dive, and Wildbarrel's fuelpump skipped. There was a sound of transformation – metal grinding over metal - and suddenly one of the seekers slammed down on top of the car right in front of him. 

Wildbarrel had no time to brake or avoid. There was a fleeing mech in front of him, and then there was a solid wall of metal. He crashed into the pinned mech in front of him and screamed as something inside of him.   
His alt-mode broke apart from the impact, and his mouth and face were full of sand. Wildbarrel struggled to right himself, and he leaked warm energon at his side.

Right beside him, the seeker was still fighting its chosen prey, its spindly claws wiggling in between armour-seams, and its pedes keeping the struggling mech pinned to the ground.

The mech was screaming, and hot drops of energon landed Wildbarrel's plating as the seeker snapped one of the bot's energon lines. The mech's screaming turned into static soon after.

Wildbarrel's air ventilations were shallow and speedy and his wound felt like fire was spreading over his whole frame. The torn plating ripped a bit further as Wildbarrel desperately tried to manoeuvre himself away. He wanted to call out of his creator, but he couldn't get his vocaliser to work, and he couldn't see any of the other travellers anymore.

Where had they gone? Where was Rivet Nail?!

Wildbarrel struggled onto his hands and knees, and started to crawl away from the seeker. The sound of wrenching metal and obscene slurps sounded from behind him, but he didn't look back. 

Wildbarrel held back the panicked pants that were threatening to burst from his vocaliser and forced more power into his systems, clawing at the sandy ground under him as he went forward. He didn't know where he was going- he didn't know where Rivet Nail was, or in which direction he had to go to find New Iacon- he just crawled.   
His helm was as hot as a furnace, but there was a distinct lack of coherent thought in his head. He just had to keep on crawling, because any place was better than those few paces behind him.

The sound of snapping metal ceased, and after a few moments, Wildbarrel could feel the subtle vibrations of the seeker's steps through the ground as it approached him. 

This was it then. The end. He was going to end as a ball of processed metal and energon in a seeker's tank. He tried to crawl faster, optics almost burning out with stress and his vocaliser praying for Rivet Nail to come and save him – for anyone to come and save him-! 

It was in vain. Large talons curled around his midsection, and he was lifted out of the metallic sand – squirming and all. Wildbarrel could no longer control his vocaliser, and he screamed with panic as the predatory flyer held him before its energon-stained faceplate. It clicked and warbled something, and rubbed a sharp thumb over the wound in Wildbarrel's side. 

“Rivet Nail- Rivet Nail- please-” Wildbarrel cried, and he fought to wriggle his way out of the predator's grasp. 

The seeker ignored his struggles, and turned him in its hands, exposing the weeping wound in Wildbarrel's side. The large predator leant forward and ran its glossa over the wound. Acidic lubricant burnt its way into Wildbarrel's systems, and it stank of processed energon and metal.  
“R-rivet-n-n-...” Wildbarrel retched and writhed as the spittle burnt into his wound, and the Seeker tightened its hold on him, making a long crooning sound in his audial.

The seeker stood up, and Wildbarrel found himself pressed tightly against the seeker's chestplate. A soft whirring had Wildbarrel flinching in the seeker's grip. Metal sheets folded and bent around him until he sat snugly inside of a seeker cockpit and then the ground was suddenly speeding away from him. The fuel in his tank sloshed around and he held back the urge to vomit as he was taken higher and higher in the air. The seeker was flying him away. 

Looking through the scratched glass of the seeker's cockpit, Wildbarrel tried to spot Rivet Nail, but all he could find was a dustcloud far off in the distance. There were several forms lying in their wake- taken down by the seekers- he could not see if Rivet Nail was one of them.   
His breath was getting hitched, and he curled up on himself, his fingers digging into the seams of his cheap armour. He was never getting any upgrades now. He would die as a pathetic, unupgraded protoform with just a few vorns to his name. He had wanted to be a constructor, like Rivet Nail, he had wanted to buy his creator a house with a good berth and a nice drill to make him happy...

The Seeker was still making noises, crooning and churring in a way that was in stark contrast with the screeching roar of its engines. Wildbarrel's side was hurting even worse than before, but the energon leak had stopped, and he didn't dare to move in case he would rip it open again. He wasn't done with life yet. He wanted every single moment he could get, every second of it. He didn't want to die! He wanted to be back with Rivet Nail, and daydream about their new, awesome future in New Iacon. 

His tank lurched when the Seeker suddenly pointed its nose downward, and Wildbarrel felt his spark freezing in its chamber as they sped towards the ground. Through the scratched cockpit, countless gnarled shapes and pillars shot by, higher even than the towers of Tetrahex.   
The seeker was aiming towards one of the large rock pillars in the middle of an endless canyon. 

The sound of shifting metal rang above the engines, and for a tiny klik Wildbarrel was freefalling. Then, clawed servos curled around him and two seeker legs stretched out to absorb the impact of the landing. The scarce fuel in Wildbarrels tank made a crazy flip, and he felt it coming up his intake line.

He purged, and watched the energon fall down- right over the ledge that the seeker had just landed on. The endless depths seemed to move before his optics, and another mouthful of energon came out of his intake. He was shivering so hard that his plating rattled against the seeker's grip. 

The seeker brought him up to its face again, and made more of its unintelligible noises, its sharp talons carefully wiping over his wounded side before once again dragging its glossa over it. Wildbarrel flinched as the lubricant smeared into his wounds. His pain receptors screamed at him and he screamed along as the edge of his plating was eaten away by the acids in the seeker's spittle.

He didn't want to think about what the seeker was doing. There were always the stories, the scary ones that were supposed to be fun at a party. The ones he had started to suspect were just tales to keep new-sparks in line-. Stories about seekers stealing young mechlings and femlings to feed to their young, or stealing the sparks of younglings for their bitlets to play with, or just slowly feeding off them, only leaving the outer parts intact, or just as a plaything- 

Wildbarrel started crying quietly. They should never have left Kaon. Wildbarrel would have preferred life as a protoform over this, even if that mean always eating gross energon! He wanted Rivet Nail, he wanted to go back home! He would rather live in the slum-parts of Kaon than just end here! 

The seeker pressed him against its chest, and they moved into the small alcove that the ledge was attached to, a tiny hole in the side of the rock pillar. Inside, Wildbarrel spotted a large pile of soft scrap metal and mesh, fashioned into a crude nest.   
He could recognize half-eaten bots in the nest, glued together with molten metal and dried seeker lubricant. With an unmistakable groan the seeker crouched in its nest, wings wiggling around in the air as it rearranged the loose scraps of metal. 

Then, almost daintily, the seeker laid him into the large nest. It leaned in, and nuzzled him with its huge faceplate, optics dim and pink. It had laid him down on something bumpy and uncomfortable, and when Wildbarrel looked, everything seemed to make just a little more sense. The offline frame of a seeker bitlet was pressing into him, limp and dead. It had only one wing, and the jaw had been misconstructed.  
“... No way.” He croaked to himself. 

Wildbarrel was interrupted in his staring when the seeker licked him again, and he cried out as the burning lubricant seared his wound. He shuddered and tried to push the large faceplate away from him. His hands burned where he touched the spittle.  
“Stop- it hurts, it's not helping- you're hurting me! Let me go-! I already have a creator-” He cried out.

The seeker only hummed and curled its deadly talons carefully around him until he was nestled safely in the nape of the seeker's neck. Tough rubber-covered cables glowed with air-frame heat, and the purr of a soothing engine rattled through Wildbarrel's frame. 

“I just want to go home...” He cried. “Just let me go home! I don't want to be your bitlet!” He kicked his legs, and tried to wriggle out of the seeker's grip. 

The seeker's fiery red optics were dull with drowsiness, but its mouth formed an unmistakable indulgent smile. The expression was so unexpectedly grounder that Wildbarrel's spark flickered. He had seen a similar expression on Rivet Nail's face.   
Cybertron's deadliest predator was smiling at him, and one of its talons was carefully rubbing his back, focusing on the small nubs of his doorwings.

“I'm not a seekerlet!” His voice hitched as he spoke, but the seeker ignored him.

Wildbarrel struggled until he could barely move, and then just waited for the seeker to slip into recharge. Eventually, the caressing claws went still around him, and the humming purr of the seeker engine died to a barely-audible rumble. 

Wildbarrel's own systems were drowsy and broken, and he shot a look at the opening of the little enclave. He still remembered the frightful depths staring back at him. He trembled, and the seeker's talons tugged him closer as if they sensed his desire to be free. Wildbarrel looked at the light that came from the outside, and softly sobbed for his creator until his systems cycled into recharge.


	2. Deterioration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wildbarrel's adventure continues...

Wildbarrel awoke to the deafening roar of a jet engine, and he jolted upright, his mind reeling with images of dust, energon, and screams. 

His wound tore with his abrupt move, and the pain tore a howl from his voicebox. He fell back into the nest, and cupped his wounded side until he could think again. His hands were wet when he pulled them away. 

The grey seeker was nowhere in the cave, and there was only the fading rush of a seeker engine in the distance. Wildbarrel took shuddering breaths and carefully caressed the wound in his side. His part of the nest- carefully fashioned out of inner autobot wiring- was spotted with his own energon. 

The wound ached, and the seeker's acidic lubricant had sloppily sealed the torn energon tubes. Wildbarrel could see the disgusting goops of spittle and energon clotting on his wounds, with fresh beads energon seeping through small rips. 

He had to get up. If he wanted to have any chance of getting back to Rivet Nail, he had to get up and find a way back.   
Wildbarrel writhed out of the sickly nest and crawled over the rock to the edge of the little cave. The ledge was small, and the drop was as fearsome as he remembered it. There was nothing but air and smooth rock as far as he could see, and everything but the rushing wind was deadly silent. Not even a cyber hawk cawed.

Wildbarrel stared into the depths until he felt like he was going to purge again, and crawled back into the cave. His body was aching all over, and he didn't even know what the exact damage in his system was. His creator hadn't been able to find the credits for a elf-diagnose system, and his self-repair system was heavily outdated. All he had was a small meter telling him how full his tanks were. Rivet Nail had made sure that he had been well-fuelled before they had joined the travellers to New Iacon. He had spent a lot of money on a celebratory cube of high-grade, and Rivet Nail had never tasted anything so good in his life. His energy had been so high that his meter hadn't been able to give an exact number, but now it read a mere 20%. 

Wildbarrel winced, and his wound burned again from underneath his inferior plating. He wondered if Rivet Nail come back for him after the attack was over... Maybe he had made it to the city all on his own, and he was working a new job to make more credits.   
He had promised that he'd spend his first paycheck on an upgrade for Wildbarrel. What would he do with it now? Wildbarrel's invents hitched. He missed Rivet Nail. 

Wildbarrel eyed the ledge of the seeker's small enclave, and swallowed away a thick lump in his intake. He needed Rivet Nail, but Rivet Nail needed him too.

He curled his hands around the ledge, and ignored the nausea from the depths below him. Even if the world felt like it was spinning and spinning and spinning, he scanned the steep rock for any possible handholds. By the time that the seeker returned, he had found none. 

The seeker landed clumsily on the platform, together with a mess of energon and twisted metal hanging from its claws. The metal heap let out a choked scream as it hit the ground and Wildbarrels stared. It was still alive.

The seeker moved past the wounded mech and picked Wildbarrel up, stroking its deadly talons soothingly over his back before carefully slipping its tongue under his plating where the wound still ached.   
“Agagh-!” Wildbarrel choked on his breath as the acid burned, and he scratched at the Seeker's faceplate. The plating near his wound was burning hot, and Wildbarrel chocked on his intake every time the rough glossa stroked over his bared pain receptors.

The glossa retreated, and then Wildbarrel found himself descending right onto a hot frame, right in front of the still living mech's faceplate.

The mech's blue optics were cracked and wide open. A pathetic whining sound came from the voicebox, and Wildbarrel stumbled backwards. 

“H-hhel-pl—mm-mm.” The mech hissed in static, and his frame twitched oddly. 

Wildbarrel tried to back away, but the seeker would not let him retreat, and kept carefully pushing him down onto the corpse. The seeker made encouraging noises, and Wildbarrel almost purged the last few drops of energon in his tank when the seeker pushed his face into the other mech's open chassis. 

As he kept refusing, the seeker started to sound distressed, dragging bits of internal wiring and systems out to present to him. The grounder was becoming quieter.

“No.” Wildbarrel chanted. “No no no! I want Rivet Nail. I want to go back to Kaon! I want to go home!” 

The seeker made a painful sound, and then dug its claws deeply into the chassis of the dying bot. There was a snapping sound as the mech's wires couldn't keep up with the seekers strength, and then Wildbarrel found a bunch of broken fuel lines pressed into his face, hot energon spilling all over his frame. He flinched away with a scream, and the seeker hissed, trying to guide the spilling tubes to his intake. 

“No!” He sobbed. “No!” His sight was tinted blue with energon, and the sounds of the grounder's engine finally sputtered out into nothing.  
The seeker let out a warble, immediately followed by a high whine and another set of wet licks over his painful wound. He felt the sharp talons caressing his back as the seeker pulled him against its chest in a protective hug. Wildbarrel cried, and he curled up into a tight ball in the seeker's grip. “No more- just let me go home-” There was a sound of static and wrenching metal, and the seeker held up a bit of metal.

It was pushed in his face, and Wildbarrel had to hold back a gag as he recognized a part of the grounder's face. He put his hands on the disgusting piece and pushed against it with all his strength even as the seeker continued its distressed whining. 

The bite was pressed firmly against his lips and he balked, turning his head as far away as possible. The seeker hissed, and the metal piece was taken away from his mouth. Wildbarrel gasped for breath, his frame trembling with relief- he wouldn't have to eat a bit of corpse. The seeker sounded stressed and almost angry, and Wildbarrel dared to hope- Maybe the predator would realise its mistake and bring him back to Rivet Nail? 

Barely a moment later he was lifted to the seeker's faceplate. It was chewing on something, and Wildbarrel felt a surge of panic when he gained an idea of what the predator was about to do. He bit and claws as sharp fingertip pushed in between his lips and pulled open his mouth-

He nearly choked on the pre-chewed mass of metal, acidic lubricant and energon that dribbled into his mouth, and he swallowed automatically, his coding taking necessary measures to keep his venting system unclogged. He could feel the gory mess settle in his tank, and he gagged, turning in the seeker's grip to purge himself of the unwanted fuel. 

The seeker was carefully rubbing his back, holding him close and humming softly. Wildbarrel retched, but his systems refused to cooperate, keeping the ball of pre-chewed autobot safely in his fuel tank. 

The seeker reached over to the corpse again and pulled another bit from it, carefully prechewing it for Wildbarrel. Wildbarrel tried to imagine that the weight in his stomach was just the result of a rock stuck under his plating. It didn't work. He was crying again, and his systems kept initiating and aborting fuel-purges. 

The seeker lifted Wildbarrel to its faceplate again, and another batch of chewed up mech slid into his mouth. The predator continued until his tank was full, and Wildbarrel had to painfully cough up the excess to prevent his vents from clogging. 

The seeker seemed content. It was humming and churring pleasantly, stroking softly over his doorwings and running its tongue over his aching wound. Wildbarrel felt sicker than ever before in his life, and his processors were glitching. The seeker cuddled him close, and then went on to feed itself, tossing the remains unceremoniously out of the cave after it was done.

Then Wildbarrel was once again put down in the small coil of wiring again, and the seeker left. 

When the seeker returned it started cleaning him. Wildbarrel just let it happen, and tried not to thinks of the heavy feeling in his tank. The rest of the day passed in flashes, his processors failing him and his recharge systems glitching.   
More days passed, and the seeker was there nearly every time he woke, running that cursed glossa over his wound. 

No matter how many times the predator tried to make him suck the energon from severed fuel lines, Wildbarrel could not do it, and the seeker seemed more worried with each passing attempt. It still fed him in the same way- and after three attempts to avoid it, Wildbarrel just let it happen. If he refused to open his mouth, the seeker's sharp fingers would do it for him. 

The wound on his side had begun to rust. The red flakes of his metal were now visible on the outside instead of just under his plating, and the dull pain from before was replaced with a searing burn when he so much as breathed. He had dared to look underneath his armour once, and he had found a hole where his secondary plating was supposed to be.   
Rivet Nail had called them rust-infections. Wildbarrel had had one when he'd been very young, from where a turbofox had bitten his ankle joint. Rivet Nail had worked double time to be able to pay for some pain-relief, and Wildbarrel missed him so much that it hurt. 

His fuel tank had finally decided to revolt against the meals the seeker tried to feed him. He was an energon only type- he had no systems for processing any other material, and the metal he was being force-fed had filled up his tank to the brim. It was giving him overflow messages, even though his energy levels were only at 4%. 

His tank burned as well, no doubt thanks to the burning spittle from the seeker- he guessed that was how they broke down the metal, sheer acidic fluids.   
The seeker had grown nervous in its caresses on his back too, sometimes scratching its deadly talons over his small doorwings. Wildbarrel would never grow full-out wings, and it seemed that the seeker was finally coming to understand this. 

“I'm not a seekerlet- I'm not even a real sparkling, just... just an unfinished protoframe.... Just let me go back to Rivet Nail...” Wildbarrel sobbed again and again.

In time the seeker stopped its humming and chirping, and progressed to worried whining. It still held him close, still licked over his worsening wound and still fed him, but Wildbarrel simply couldn't eat anything anymore. Every attempt at feeding him resulted in clogged vents and a horrid mess dribbling out of his mouth. 

Wildbarrel couldn't tell how long it had been since the seeker had taken him, but it could have been decades for all he knew.   
The seeker had become panicky, and it didn't let him out of its grasp anymore. Wildbarrel couldn't remember the last time it had left to find itself food. 

It had taken a long time, but the seeker finally seemed to realise that Wildbarrel would not live. So it had started keening as it held him close, and Wildbarrel cried along. His pain receptors had shut down somewhere along the road, but the numbness was worse. Wildbarrel was sobbing, lingering on the edge of recharge, and the seeker was still petting him when the last dark panel on his screen lit up with a small curt message. 

Initiating emergency stasis – shutdown imminent 

He sank into darkness as his systems automatically powered off, the keening seeker sounds the last thing ringing in his ears.

BREAK

“-and here, we have the crown jewel of our museum. A well preserved seeker's nest!” The museum guide smiled, and made a grand gesture towards the display. “It was found near New Iacon, and we have dated it to have been built around the time that it was just a settlement instead of the big city we know now.” 

The tourist bots gathered curiously around the enormous metal nest, and a group of young sparklings gaped in awe at a servo that was sticking out from the side. 

“Seekers are grossly understudied even to this day, but this finding has tremendously helped our research on them. Here, on the left we have displayed several of the unique findings that were found nearby and inside the nest.” 

The tour guide led his little troupe a few more steps to the left, and began speaking as the group crowded around the display. The first case held a couple of broken and dented protoform eggs, and a malformed frame of a dead seeker bitlet. 

“This particular seeker had a bad nesting, and these broken eggs were found hidden in the nest, most likely an attempt to keep them warm and functioning even after they went offline.” The guide said. A young protoform pressed their faceplate against the glass and someone else snapped an image capture.

“And now for the most interesting part of this display.” The tour guide said, and he gestured towards the large suspension-tank standing in the middle. The preserving chamber held a pitiful mechling prototype. It's paint was patchy and it had a rusted gash over its right side that spread out over almost its entire body.

“This prototype was found in the nest- and it is one of the only verified cases where a seeker tried to replace its own lost young with a grounder sparkling! When our poor little bot here was studied, we found copious amounts of scrap metal and dissolvant nanytes in his fuel tank, showing that the seeker must have tried to feed him as it would have its seekerlet.” 

A few people expressed their sorrow for the long-dead mechlet, and a few more image captures were snapped.

“From the large dent and fractures in its plating, it is suspected that the young grounder plummeted to his death as his surrogate creator attempted to make him fly.” A few people in the audience winced. 

The tour-guide pointed to the next glass case. “Over there you can see a bit of the scrap metal that was extracted from the youngling. If you look carefully enough, seeker teeth marks are visible in between the signs of corrosion....”   
The group moved on, a few optics lingering on the poor protoform hanging in the display case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this a long time ago, because TFP Starscream's design was just perfect to imagine these primal creatures with. I have more in the works that have a similar theme, but they will not be posted for a very long time. If they are, I might post them in the same series. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Tuna in next weak, fur the necks chapter. (reminder to self- this was posted on wednesday)


End file.
